Free Expression

The Poem That Failed To Materialize

We’ll try again tomorrow!

Just write something, and go with it. Ignore the pre-‘and’ comma based criticism from ProWritingAid — you don’t need it. Just answer why you’re here:

Because I noted my stats finally rising again and didn’t want to break the publishing streak that brought me here.

Not that I’m reaching for any kind of success.

But it’s good to keep the algorithm sated in any way possible. Unless we’re considering high-quality work, in which case I can’t say I’m coming through at this time.

Does the algorithm recognize quality?

If anything, it’s more about the engagement. From there, it does its best to infer quality.

If AI makes inferences.

Neural networks operate a lot like the human brain, but I don’t know if we can identically name all the processes, or if there are simulation-based names that are more accurate.

Just because AI reaches the same conclusions as us, it doesn’t always mean it makes it the same way.

In any case, I’ve watched my numbers closely, and a single day without publishing tends to have an immediate effect on outreach.

Today, I had an idea to write about the fear of gaining false hopes.

Because I get it.

It’s easy to get comfortable in any mindset, including negative ones.

Sadly, the moment you’ve felt a certain way often enough, it just becomes your default state.

So, a poem on anti-fear default states? Perhaps flip the message from focusing on the fear of being let down, make it about the positive mindsets of courage, passion, and motivation.

It’s how we maximize our chances of being useful to ourselves and society.

Reason should be the only dictator for what you intend to achieve. If you know you can do it, then act.

But I’m not writing this the way I intended to.

I hoped to be poetic.

It haunts me that I can’t string together a couple of fancy words —

No.

Stop affirming weakness. You have so much to give.

Yes, I’m writing directly to you now.

Line by line.

Forget the readers.

Anyone reading this who isn’t you, they are witnessing a private moment poorly hidden. It’s the way of things.

The energy it would take to remove the evidence it isn’t worth it.

If anyone judges, then it doesn’t matter.

But I do understand the fear of getting your hopes up without proof of value for doing so.

No one likes feeling let down.

This is dry.

Or am I being unnecessarily judgmental?

All of this criticism should be redirected to products and services people would enjoy reading about.

Everyone seems to love tv fiction, I’m sure I could write about some of the stupid shows I like. And I’m not just calling them that, I don’t tend to watch anything that’s too high quality, for fear that it’ll take me away from my priorities.

I often end up watching adult cartoons I don’t even enjoy, Family Guy and Community being among my common picks.

Good tv shows, video games, new hobbies, romantic relationships; these are all things I can’t afford if I’m going to approach my ultimate form in life.

Crappy tv means I’m not tempted to give it as much time. Usually.

Binging streaks still happen.

If I’m wrong about my potential in a state of deprivation, then I’ll die all the same.

But let’s write a poem about the fear of becoming hopeful.

Doves represent hope. Something to do with dreaming about bloody doves?

Why the blood??

You’re too high for this right now.

Barely!

Tell you what, you can publish this on the coffee site, but —

Nah man, I’ve got Big Algo to think about here on Medium. Can’t be wasting this opportunity to publish some perfectly good text.

Though, it isn’t perfect!

Perfection is relative.

Is it?

Final deal: no poem, we just publish this as it is.

Be Open feels right to me.

I love them.

Does this mean you’re confident this piece holds value? Otherwise, you’re knowingly sending shit to those you love. What does it say about me if I think that’s okay?

Well, as long as one person can smile along, then it’ll be worth it. And the only possible way to make that happen is to publish.

Checkmate!

I can’t tell you how badly I wish I could whip out a sexy poem of veritable depth this instant. What is it people do to transmit a genuine message without stating it word for word?

Or can that be poetry too? Still —

*cough*

Fear exists; check the ether. It adjusts by the conditions of the weather. By many factors, I do not judge.

No.

It’s senseless garbage.

I don’t get it, Medium is swarming with talented poets. I would love to feel myself being better than all of them, but it’s probably not possible.

Horror!!

What am I to do?

Self-confidence is a wonderful feeling. It’s too bad. I’m afraid of wasting my time trying if I’m just going to fail.

But I’m safe now.

Whatever that means; I’m safe.

Even if I weren’t, unless there’s something I could do about it, would there be a point in dwelling on it? No one makes the best of things by operating from a place of non-movement.

That’s what fear creates.

Non-movement.

A lack of self-confidence isn’t always about repressing, for how can you repress an idea that never arises in the first place? Your mind cannot activate the processes necessary to act. It’s pretty brutal when you finally realize the energy you have to exercise real power over yourself.

This often being the first step toward changing your environment. Where you can logically deduce your ability to succeed, go for it.

Any fear holding you back at this point is plain evil within — and against — yourself.

Knowing the tragic events happening in the lives of many people around the world, it’s ridiculous, even pitiful, to consider the debilitating effects a poem can have on me.

I just don’t want it to be bad.

But does it matter if the unwritten poem would be good or bad when this existing piece commentating on the fact is objectively for the worse anyway? Perhaps a bad article is worse than a bad poem!

Poetry is already judged poorly by most readers, no matter the quality.

Articles often give more hope coming in. I feel myself having pulled the rug from beneath your feet.

This is unacceptable! Every individual mind is precious.

Every idea implanted should be well nurtured in advance, offered from a conscious place of truth. And with less focus on negative concepts as fear and lack of hope.

Isn’t the world dark enough as it is? I know: asking too many questions additionally harms the quality of the piece.

What did you do to deserve this?

Is it my only hope that you find my spiral entertaining?

This stream of consciousness must end shortly, lest I lose myself in these depthuous pools of doubt and uncertainty.

Why do I continue?

I desperately want to exit this window, to give it the old CTRL-A + DELETE on the way out. It wouldn’t be only for me, but also for you.

For this reason, I’ve decided to conduct an experiment.

This piece will be published as is, but then I’m sleeping on it. In the morning, I’ll re-attempt the poem.

You should always prime your mind before sleep to ascertain and reinforce your values, but also to ask the questions you need answered most. The sleeping mind performs wonders.

But right now, my mind is numb.

On that note, I bid you good day and good night. Write to you again another time!

Peace.

About the Author:

🔍 ㅤGustave Deresse Is a Truthful & Theatrical Métis-Canadian Writer, Editor, Wanderer, Cook, and Musical Artist Who Enjoys Exploring Themes as Spirituality, Logic, Life, Philosophy, Nature, Neurocognitive Psychology, Creativity, Writing, Humour, Inspiration, Music, Wellbeing — and the Weird.

P.S. Sooner or later, I tend to edit my pieces. Subscribe to my stories by email for the best chance to catch my original works!

ㅤ⬇️⬇️

My Introduction Page —

You might also enjoy these —

— by Shirley Jones Luke in Be Open Golden Stories

— by Gustave Deresse

And HERE You Can Purchase Me Several Dry Bags of Tea to Unlock Yet More Content. Then, Send Me a Message to Receive a “Free” Private Poem!

I appreciate you, take care.

Sincerely, — G